


The Balcony

by Zoe_Grimm



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Birthday Presents, Blackcest, F/F, No Plot/Plotless, One Shot, Sibling Incest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-30
Updated: 2018-01-30
Packaged: 2019-03-11 11:09:16
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 650
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13522992
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zoe_Grimm/pseuds/Zoe_Grimm
Summary: "It does not do to hide on your own birthday, you know", Bellatrix said, voice low in Narcissa's ear.Narcissa halfway turned her head, surpressing a shiver as crimson lips brushed her bare neck. "I does not do to laugh at a funeral", she replied evenly, eliciting a low chuckle from Bellatrix that gave her a shiver she could not swallow down...





	The Balcony

**Author's Note:**

> My first story for this pairing, let me know what you think! :)

Narcissa Malfoy was standing on the balcony of her family home. The Malfoys, wealthy as they were, had a manor, but the Blacks... had what could only be called a castle. Years and years of old money, family connections and gilded chandeliers had been what made up Narcissa's childhood. Worn red carpets that swallowed her steps and portraits of relatives that looked at her misgivingly. In their eyes, she was nothing but a shadow trailing behind her talented sister. And then there was a whole world out there at war...

She stood on the balcony looking at the stars and felt very small and insignificant, comforted by the vast sky above her and the wind that played with the edges of her sapphire gown. There had been an almost royal ball tonight, but the night was nearly over. Narcissa was holding on to her last glass of champagne, the contents sparkling as if she held her own little galaxy between her fingers. 

The doors to the balcony, which she had left half shut, swung wide open as a figure strode through to join her. Clad in a flaring black gown with freely flowing dark curls, a glass of blood red wine held loosely in one hand and traces of the same substance on her lips, Bellatrix made up the most beautifully dangerous and deranged thing Narcissa had ever seen. She walked up right behind her and snaked an arm around Narcissa's slender waist. 

"It does not do to hide on your own birthday, you know", Bellatrix said, voice low in Narcissa's ear. 

Narcissa halfway turned her head, surpressing a shiver as crimson lips brushed her bare neck. "I does not do to laugh at a funeral", she replied evenly, eliciting a low chuckle from Bellatrix that gave her a shiver she could not swallow down. She still tried, with champagne. She drained the glass and set it down on the banister, interlacing her fingers with Bella's against her stomach on her way back. Comfortably leaning against a murderess. 

They were silent for a while, looking out over the overgrowing shadows on the lawn, of roses that had too many thorns and a sky so full of stars Narcissa thought it might spill over. Bella was tracing circles on the back of her hand, against the faint pulse at her wrist. "You have not asked me yet", Narcissa said. She did not need to look at Bella to see her smirk in reply, she could picture the expression just fine. "Growing impatient, are we?", Bella teased, nudging Narcissa's neck. "No", Narcissa said quietly, because she knew she should not be waiting. She should not be standing here at all. 

_If mother knew..._

"What does my princess want for her birthday?", Bellatrix asked, and Narcissa stood frozen in place, contemplating though there really only was one answer. "A kiss."

They had been playing this game since Narcissa could remember, each year on her birthday. She had always been Bella's little princess. And each year, she got a wish- a toy, a tiara, something sweet- on her thirteenth birthday, she had wished for a kiss. All the other girls in her dormitory had kissed someone. She just hadn't expected for Bella to kiss her herself. She wished for a kiss again the year after that. On her seventeenth birthday, Bella had kissed her into oblivion... and here they were, more than twenty years later, under the same curse.

She turned around in Bella's arms, still feeling small in comparison to her taller sister, just no longer insignificant. Crimson lips descended on her own, tender and viscious in turns, until they pulled away. Narcissa tasted blood and wine in their wake, and she felt a little dazed.

She felt like she had fallen into a fairy tale where everything was twisted the wrong way. It must be why she whispered "thank you, my queen."


End file.
